Oh, you bet Donald Trump hated this movie. Not long after its release, he lashed out in his socials, calling the film a “cheap, defamatory, and politically disgusting hatchet job” and the people behind it “scum”. Of course, he still capped that rant off with that ubiquitous patriotic battlecry, the one about making “…AMERICA GREAT AGAIN” (Yes, all-caps). The livid reaction’s expected, regardless of what you think of the man. Iranian director Ali Abbasi certainly took liberties with this biopic, if you can even call it that.

Still, such a movie was bound to exist. If Abbasi didn’t do it, someone else would. And, how funny: the idea for this came about during Trump’s first go-run. Now, here it is, seeing the light of day in his second. It only goes to show the inevitability of this undertaking.

It’s an origin story, badly put. Whether it’s a hero’s or a villain’s depends on whether you swing left or right. Despite that low-hanging fruit of a title, The Apprentice does not at any point reference his defunct hit reality show. Rather, it depicts him as one in his fledgling years, as it delves into his not-so-humble beginnings before his inevitable rise to power. And we do know how that escalated rapidly. 

There’s a strange symbolism in Sebastian Stan scoring the lead, given that he once played second fiddle to Captain America in the MCU. Seeing him as US President this time makes for a curious pattern. Nevertheless, he outdoes himself anew with his chameleon act, probably even topping the time he donned prosthetics for A Different Man. That one earned him a Golden Globe. This one might just be his finest hour yet. 

The story begins in 1973, which explains the youthful casting choice. It gives writer Gabriel Sherman leeway to depict Donald at 27, already fueled with ambition despite being relegated to collecting rent door-to-door at the time. He’s eager to impress (and eventually, outdo) his demanding father, hotshot real estate mogul Fred (Martin Donovan), who vehemently resents his eldest son’s decision to become a pilot. Meanwhile, their passive mother Mary Anne (Catherine McNally) can only tsk-tsk at the sidelines at most. Fortunately for Fred Jr (Charlie Carrick), he remains close with Donald, until his alcoholism turns his life upside down. We can never be sure if such family conversations really took place. Obviously, they weren’t gunning for accuracy here. That much is proven later on, starting with the use of amphetamines.

The foundation rests on Donald’s relationship with Ray Cohn (Jeremy Strong), whom he meets at a club in the opening sequence. Prior to that chance encounter, the lawyer had gained notoriety for prosecuting the Rosenburgs. Now, his mission is to assist the Trumps in an ongoing discrimination case. And despite Fred Sr’s initial disdain, Cohn’s cunning tactics do work and, suddenly, Donald gains a new role model. 

Most of the first half shows the mentor-protege between the two. Cohn pulls Trump out of more sticky situations. And, along the way, he shares his three cardinal rules: 1) Always attack, 2) Never admit wrongdoing, and 3) Always claim victory, even if defeated. Cohn maintains his influence, even when his sordid nature starts to unravel and even when he interferes with Donald’s decision to marry Ivana Zelníčkova. Here, the Czech-born Mrs Trump is brought to life by Bulgarian-born Maria Bakalova, who catapulted to fame as Borat’s daughter. Clearly, she’s no Tutar here and how refreshing to see this side. 

As Donald ascends higher into power, building one hotel after the other, his relationships conversely sour. That includes the one with Cohn, whose health takes the turn for the worse. And just when we thought Succession was Strong’s star-making turn, this performance fully expands his range. Plus, there’s no point arguing when even a former associate of the real Cohn finds the resemblance uncanny. 

The script eventually goes overboard with the depiction of unverified events, particularly that traumatizing scene with Donald assaulting Ivana. Much as it was later revoked in a subsequent interview, the incident’s shown here, with no attempt at subtlety whatsoever. This is where both Abbasi and Sherman cross the fine line between artistic license and shock value for shock value’s sake.

Yet amidst all the narrative histrionics, the explosive tandem of Stan and Strong permeates. They’re the ones who save this from being a twisted, overlong SNL sketch and help it stay on path. As they wind up their shared storyline, they manage to humanize their characters, if not make excuses for them. 

The film closes with a shot of American flags reflected on Donald’s pupils. We know what follows. We’re living that reality today. And, again, depending on your position, that image either sparks hope or calls to mind werewolf-eyed Michael Jackson’s fourth-wall break at the end of “Thriller”. Either way, it cleverly caps off this brilliantly-acted ruckus, one that will be remembered for reasons right and wrong.